Midsummer

A day of different emotions.

I still think that joy was the strongest; it was also the first. I walked out into early sunshine - a glorious day - and stood as my coffee brewed. I was wearing my old morning robe and let it drop, feeling the warm air on my skin and felt the joy break through all the frustrations and I just bathed in it for a moment.

Later in the morning I was overcome with frustration and (such a rare visitor) anger and decided to walk them off but couldn't shake them. At one point, reaching a gate, I kicked it open fiercely, lost my footing and fell heavily onto my back.

No harm done and - thankfully - no-one to witness my shame but at least it cleared the negativity from my mind as I had to admit to myself that it was a stupid thing to do, that I deserved the bruises and that it would probably raise a wry smile later.

So here I am on Midsummer night and I can smile at myself but it is an empty smile because things really are not good. I ache with a frustration that I have absolutely no answer to. I smile but it is a bleak smile and I sit teary eyed (another very very rare visitor).

There is always a plan.

I will keep myself busy and not brood.
I will walk (but not kick at gates).
I will lose myself in glorious music.
I will cherish my friends.
I will allow myself to be in love in my own small and controlled way.
I will not neglect myself.
I will cook fabulous food.
I will look for and find beauty and pleasure in small things and brief moments.

And when my frustration turns to anger (which I always direct inwards anyway) I will remember myself laying on my back like a beetle one midsummer's day.

Finally, I stand by my first statement. My strongest emotion of the day was my joy at walking out into a beautiful morning. That morning sun has eclipsed the rest of the day.